


Honestly, Just a Late Night

by Xiabre



Category: 19天 - Old先 | 19 Days - Old Xian
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, NSFW, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Wet Dream, i see you, im sure yall love that shit huh, just generally pretty gay, mo guan shan suffering?, obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 12:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16556147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xiabre/pseuds/Xiabre
Summary: Usually, Mo Guan Shan's dreams about He Tian are pretty tame, save for that one where He Tian groped his ass, but well-- Things take a turn when Guan Shan wakes after a particularly steamy dream: it all devolves into chaos.





	Honestly, Just a Late Night

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first post on here, and it's been a long time coming. It's always been a battle determining whether or not I deem my writing good enough, but recently I decided... fuck it. If I start posting regularly, I'll surely improve regardless of what I think now. 
> 
> Disregarding that, though, I hope you all enjoy! A toast to firsts!

“ _That’s good_ ,” a voice coaxes, and Guan Shan can’t help but shift his hips uncomfortably, pain-laced pleasure lancing up his spine. He hisses, which drags a low chuckle from the other man; he sounds haughty, almost prideful of his actions, but just the tone is enough to make Guan Shan’s mouth run hopelessly dry. 

He’s achingly hard, can feel himself throbbing against his stomach, tip slick with pre-cum and cock flushed an alluring red. He can feel someone looming over him, observing him and systematically compartmentalizing his every reaction, his every gasp and stuttered groan. The man’s eyes are locked on his trembling form, and he can feel fingers dragging over the sensitive muscle of his asshole then sinking in slow, far too slow to be anything more than a tease. 

Annoyance digs its claws into Guan Shan’s chest and he gives what he believes to be an aggravated groan, but sounds more like a desperate cry to be filled, to be relieved of the tension building in his gut and coiling around his spine, creeping out into his throat and spilling into the air between them. 

The man tuts, almost as if reprimanding a child, then drags the pad of his thumb over the head of Guan Shan’s weeping prick, wetting it even further. 

“ _Don’t fuss_ ,” he orders as Guan Shan’s thighs tense, feeling mocked, in some odd way. It only makes Guan Shan angrier, but successfully instills another wave of broiling heat in his veins. His eyes feel gummy and his vision is bleary as he wrenches them open to glare up at the man positioned over him, unable to make out any significant details past the distinctive tangle of hair framing the man’s face and obscuring his narrow, amused eyes. But the pressure in his chest is intimate, well-worn and commonplace. 

“ _Why don’t you tell me how much you want it, Little Mo?_ ” 

Guan Shan wrenches himself awake to the sound of a choked-off cry tearing its way out of his throat, which feels almost raw, as if he hasn’t used his voice in days. He’s disoriented, aware of his surroundings but unable to make heads or tails of the sudden arousal that has overtaken him, making him feel filthy. He’s sweating, he can feel it in his clammy palms and in the thick sheen that has coated his body, trickling down over his temple and in between his thighs, which have been plastered together, trapped amongst the sheets. 

The darkness is stifling, the night humid. What remains of his dream clings to him, and Guan Shan shudders, sickened by what his subconscious had conjured and subsequently subjected him to. His body is awake and alert, and his cock is pressing against his sweats. He can already tell he’s leaking, though that’s a given by the dark wet spot that’s staining his pants, an almost insulting reminder of his intrusive dream. 

“ _Fuck,_ ” he murmurs bitterly, and he sits up in his bed, trying aimlessly to regain his composure though his head is spinning and he’s desperate for relief. The light streaming in through his window is murky, dully illuminating a small sliver of his room, and it feels suffocating. Hands trembling incessantly, he untangles himself from the mess of bedsheets and blindly stumbles out of bed, thinking, desperately, of anything but his dream. He can still feel it coiling in his stomach, calling for his attention. 

Wandering into the bathroom just across his room, Guan Shan strokes the patterned wall, instinctively searching for the light switch, hoping it would soothe his heart. He flinches when he finally gets them on, feeling exposed under the sudden intensity of the fluorescent lights above. He softly shuts and locks the door behind him so as to not wake his mother, though there’s both anger and lust circling in his system. 

He doesn’t dare cast a glance at the mirror when he turns to the sink, feeling his face burn in shame, as if his sins have been put on display. Turning on the faucet, he runs his hands under the crisp water, allowing it to bite into his skin and rid him of his own disgust. He splashes it on his face and allows it to trickle down his chin and further down to his collarbones. Swallowing roughly around nothing but the dry sensation in the back of his throat, Guan Shan manages a stilted sigh, then covers his face with his palms, pressing them in over his eyes, though that does nothing to prevent those blasphemous images from plaguing his mind. _Shit_ , he can’t even imagine how he must look right now. Turning away from the mirror, he forces himself to breathe. 

Stupidly, Guan Shan flattens the palm of his hand against his groin, as if that would alleviate the ache. Instead, it only magnifies his arousal, and Guan Shan bites his lip to smother a moan, feeling himself spin out of control again. 

He pants lightly into the empty bathroom, then grits his teeth, disappointment surging through him, though, for some odd reason, it encourages his erection even further, and it twitches in his grip. He pictures that same _man_ leering at him from beneath that fringe of hair, so pompous and refined, ready to exert his control upon others, and shivers. 

“Ah…” Guan Shan manages, open-mouthed as he leans his head back against the medicine cabinet, and he debates giving in to his need and punishing himself for doing so when he has the decency to care. 

Dipping his hand below his waistband, Guan Shan lightly brushes over himself with his fingers, feeling himself respond in kind. It’s already too much and not quite enough, so he braces his hand against the sink and reaches under his briefs, wrapping his hand around himself and hissing in hesitant satisfaction. His nostrils flare, and his skin is feverish, he can feel his heart lurch against his ribcage; and-- 

“Fuck, _fuck_.” Guan Shan spits as he jerks himself roughly, the dry pads of his fingers circling around his cockhead; he’s already so _wet_ , like a bitch in heat, and he can’t decide whether he loathes or loves the feeling. He strokes his fingers up from the base, thrusting up into the delicious friction of his boxers, hoping it even marginally simulates the same pleasure from his dream. A dull pang reverberates throughout his body as his shoulders shake and his breath catches in his chest, his pants stuttered and small, as if he’s never done this before. 

He’s never felt like this before. 

Guan Shan’s eyes subconsciously slip shut, and he’s there again, right where he _needs_ to be now, trapped beneath someone else’s body, a mouth open and hot starting at his neck and trailing down his skin, all the way down to his dick. And the presence is so familiar, so frustratingly familiar that the hunger reaches a peak, gathers as saliva in his mouth even as he bites down startlingly hard on his bottom lip to stop himself from raggedly whining his desperation out to the world. 

And suddenly, as if from the darkest shadows in his mind, that godforsaken nickname: 

“ _Little Mo._ ” 

_That_ fucking nickname-- that fucker, the one that gave it to him. Guan Shan keens, spiraling out of control despite himself, and _yes_ , He Tian. _He Tian_. 

That insufferable man, always so adamant about being in his presence, so indignant in his own fucked-up way, and Guan Shan pieces it all together so quickly, he feels stupid for having questioned it in the first place. He keeps his pace, hand tight around his cock and tracing over his veins, but now he’s angry that He Tian had the indecency to invade even his dreams and fuck everything up, this illusion that Guan Shan had so carefully kept secure. 

_Oh, God,_ he thinks, horribly, one hand slick against the countertop, the other slick around his prick, _oh, God_. Because he did dream about He Tian, he dreamt of He Tian filling him up just right, he dreamt of himself twitching around He Tian’s fingers, then his cock, of He Tian smothering him, easily disarming and ruining him. 

Guan Shan wants to be ruined. 

“Hah…” Guan Shan lets out a pathetic, shaky little laugh, hand moving down to fondle his balls, cupping them and pretending it’s all He Tian’s fault, and that he’s being _teased_ , being spread open to be used. 

“ _I knew you’d want this,_ ” Guan Shan imagines He Tian would say, tone sly and mouth lavishing over his thighs, face tucked right in between them. Guan Shan can _see_ him, tongue deft, grin roguish, so pleased to be in this position, with Guan Shan right underneath him, unable to do anything but submit. His hair would fall over his face and tickle the sensitive skin of Guan Shan’s inner thighs, so ready and willing to give, and Guan Shan would be ready and willing to take all he had to offer. 

“ _But it’s not enough for you, is it, Little Mo?_ ” He Tian would ask, voice low and lascivious, fully intending to debauch him entirely. 

Guan Shan lets out a short, panicky cry, voice already hoarse, and he hopes to God his mother can’t hear him fumbling with himself in the middle of the night, imagining He Tian so deep inside him he can’t breathe or think. He pushes his briefs down to his knees, letting his cock spring free and hit the cold air. He’s so hard, harder than he’s ever been before, and he’s baring his teeth, head tipped back to face the ceiling as pre-come dribbles over his fingers and he drags it over his slit, He Tian’s tongue indulging him and licking a wet stripe down his cock. 

He’d whimper, and He Tian would chuckle, bypassing the rest of his prick and moving down to his perineum, sliding that vulgar tongue of his over it slowly, loving the way Guan Shan would squirm his response and curse him and beg to be fucked. He’d ease Guan Shan onto all fours, leave dark, bruising marks on his hips and his ass, and press his mouth against his asshole, working him open with lethargic strokes of his tongue, as if savoring him. 

Guan Shan falls to his knees, losing the ability to hold himself up, and he can feel the cold tile mark his heated skin. He opens his mouth to pant harshly, eyes squeezed tight and drool trickling out over his chin. His strokes are faster now, but he can’t keep up with the rapidfire images behind his eyes, doesn’t want to, it’s all too good to rationalize. 

“Ah, fuh- _fuck._ Shit!” He’d feel the turgid line of He Tian’s cock press tauntingly against his rim, and he’d buck back against him, and He Tian would chastise him, delight and arousal playing on his face. 

“ _Slow down,_ ” He Tian would say smugly, albeit somewhat breathlessly, “ _You can’t take me all at once._ ” 

Guan Shan allows himself a breathless sob, and curves into himself on the bathroom floor, bringing one arm above his head and pressing his face into the crook of it in order to mask the moans that are threatening to spill, unbidden, into the air. He thrusts forcefully into his hand, feeling mad with fervor. The heady scent of sex is circling in his mind, somehow, intermingling with the abrasive thought of He Tian’s cloying musk, veiled in mystery. 

He can almost taste He Tian’s cock in his mouth, and it waters, thinking of how fat his cock must be, how it would feel pressed in between his teeth and down his throat. He can hear He Tian’s rough, harsh grunts in his ear as he fucks into his asshole, can feel He Tian’s teeth at his ear, then on his shoulder as they sink in so that he can hear Guan Shan’s moans above his own. It all culminates into chaos, a rush of hazy, indistinct thoughts that push Guan Shan to edge, where he teeters until he jolts, forcing his fingers down and against himself. He pushes in without preparation, and can only go so far before the pain spears through his spine, but it’s so good, just the feeling of being filled-- 

“ _So needy, aren’t you? Why don’t you just come for me?_ ” He Tian orders, and Guan Shan can’t parse through reality and fantasy, so he cums with two fingers deep inside his asshole, mouth open and eyes shut, tears spilling through the small cracks. 

Guan Shan collapses in on himself, limbs useless. He can’t see. There’s too little and too much, it’s overwhelming. He lies, prostrate, on the bathroom floor, what’s left of his fantasies curtailing into nothing but a memory in the back of his mind. His body is sticky from the exertion, and he struggles to get out of his position when he finally has it in himself to move again, feeling sluggish and tired. But he can’t fall asleep on the bathroom floor, so he picks himself up off the ground, listlessly wipes away any of the cum that had leaked out onto the floor, and drags himself, somehow, back to his room, shutting the door behind him. His mind is a blank slate, and he can’t tell how much time has passed since he woke up, but he doesn’t have it in himself to care. 

There’s one little niggling thing, though, that eats away at him. Opening his closet, Guan Shan’s digs through a few misplaced boxes filled to the brim with childhood memorabilia, but he ignores those, instead reaching toward the back, where he’d hidden away one specific thing he’d never once thought he’d actually need. 

He Tian’s jacket is folded neatly, nestled amongst everything else Guan Shan couldn’t give a fuck about now. He gingerly pulls it out of the closet, then presses it, idly, to his face, inhaling He Tian’s scent, which had somehow managed to linger even after all this time-- that wonderfully infuriating, sultry scent that could only be He Tian’s. Guan Shan stands, then ambles back to his bed, swathing himself in his sheets and falling asleep to the persistent thoughts of He Tian’s safety, of his return, reassured by the mere presence in his mind, again, never really able to leave him alone.

**Author's Note:**

> So, what did you think? It's a real double whammy when you post a fic for the first time and it simultaneously turns out to be smut. Oopsie.
> 
> If you enjoyed, consider giving my tumblr writing blog, xiabre, a follow! It would help raise my morale and convince me to write more.
> 
> Comment what you thought down below. Thank you!


End file.
